Lyrics: The Nether-Edge

March wull sarch, Eäpril wull try

Mäy u'll tell if you'll live or die

March wull sarch, Eäpril wull try

Mäy u'll tell if you'll live or die


Buds a-break and milchi seeps

Heady in the meadows

Chalky children on the steep

Baskets full of shadows


Gapmouth spins a rattle song

The air's an upturned ocean

Swift's an axe hurled in the gloam

Splits the Riddle open


Now it looks it almost zounds

Wordle zircles wider

With the silence upside down

Horse atop the rider


Quaterevil takes a wife:

Chilver meets her maker

As the grindstone turns the knife

O'er Eleven Acres


Femboys in the forest find

Figs of foul freedom

Where the old you left behind

Valls through nether-Eden


Femboys in the forest find

Figs of foul freedom

Where the old you left behind

Valls through nether-Eden


So some must watch

While some must sleep

So runs the wordle's way

A not-girl zweal-ed at the stake

A-births the end of May